


Harry's Dream

by tray_la_la



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-24
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:51:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tray_la_la/pseuds/tray_la_la
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco always manages to make the best of a bad situation. Or, at the very least, a bad situation makes the best of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry's Dream

~

"_Holy fucking hell_."

Heat crawled up the back of his neck as Draco froze, the cold sweep of panic seizing his muscles and making his fingers go numb. _No. Please, no. Please, please, please-_

"Draco…" Harry's voice cracked slightly before he cleared his throat. "Draco, what are you- What are you wearing?"

Harry's voice was calm, measured. Too much so. Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could deal with this. He was smart. Brilliant, really. He'd come up with a perfectly good explanation, and all would be well. In fact, he'd bet they'd be laughing about this by breakfast tomorrow morning.

He screwed his eyes shut tighter. He was definitely fucked.

Trying to muster as much personal dignity as possible under the circumstances, Draco slowly turned around. As he faced Harry, he desperately resisted the urge to twist his fingers in the pink tulle bunched around his waist – currently the only article of clothing at his disposal.

Harry was standing in the doorway with a bag of takeaway in his arms – curry, if Draco's nose was anything to go by. Draco silently scowled; he couldn't even be angry with Harry for coming home early when he did so bearing his favorite dinner.

Harry cleared his throat again. "Is that- Is that Rose's?"

Draco felt his cheeks flame as he nodded, his fingers twitching against the coarse fabric. He had the urge to cross his arms over his bare chest, but he knew that'd only look more ridiculous.

"She left it here after her visit yesterday," he explained, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. "I found it this morning when I was looking for my scarf; the one you're always _stealing_."

Draco narrowed his eyes but it appeared Harry wasn't going to be distracted by the accusation. Harry's eyes looked impossibly large behind his glasses, and he'd barely raised his gaze from Draco's waist since he'd turned around.

"And you decided to put it on? It- it fits?"

His voice sounded suspiciously hoarse, but Draco was too mortified to care. Why did Harry always insist on asking the obvious?

"Yes," he gritted out, not bothering to hide his impatience. He couldn't really blame the man for returning to his own flat, but Draco still felt this was all Harry's fault. "I have a trim waist," he added defensively.

Harry shifted, transferring the bag of takeaway from one arm to the other. He still hadn't made a move to step farther into the bedroom.

"Have you got anything on underneath?"

Draco had been mistaken when he thought he'd reached the height of embarrassment before; clearly, _this_ was the apex of humiliation. A new rush of heat filled his face, and as beads of sweat began to pool at the small of his back, tickling his skin, he was suddenly glad for his bare torso. He unconsciously moved a hand to cover his crotch, but the swath of pink tutu only puffed up more.

"No."

The word was choked, half in anger, half shame, and if Draco's eyes narrowed any farther he'd no longer be able to see. Though, as far as he was concerned, that could only be an improvement.

Harry bent and carefully placed the takeaway on the floor before he straightened to face him once more. When their eyes met, a different kind of emotion swept through Draco's body. This one far more anticipatory than the first. Harry's shoulders were squared, his feet planted firmly on the ground, and the set of his jaw sent a shiver running up Draco's spine. His eyes flickered to Harry's – predatory, intent – and he shivered again.

"Show me."

Harry's voice had gone deep, the tone commanding, and all the saliva in Draco's mouth dried up in less than an instant. His fingers curled around the edges of the tutu before he hesitated for just a moment.

A muscle jumped in Harry's jaw. "_Now_."

Draco waited another second before he swallowed hard and slowly raised both arms to his chest, layers of tulle bunched in each fist. He was shaking slightly, still embarrassed, but now the feeling coiled in his belly and burned as Harry's eyes roamed over him, Draco's nearly-hard cock completely exposed.

In two quick strides Harry was in front of him, and the heat of his body made Draco's cock twitch. He kept his eyes on Draco's face as he reached down and grasped Draco's prick, his hold hard enough to make Draco wince. Draco forced his eyes to stay locked on Harry's as Harry tugged him to full hardness, the raw friction making Draco's eyes water. He bit down on his bottom lip, and another thrill shot through him as Harry's nostrils flared and he took a step closer.

"You shouldn't be stealing Rosie's things, Draco."

Draco whimpered at the hot gust of air against his ear, and he thrust his hips into Harry's hand. A soft cry escaped him when Harry squeezed hard around the head.

"You need to be punished."

It was barely a whisper, and Draco was still working through the meaning when two hands closed around his biceps and he was hauled bodily to the bed. The wind knocked out of him as he was pulled down across Harry's lap, Harry's knees hard against his stomach and sternum. He struggled for a moment, trying to untangle his arms from underneath himself, before the tutu was yanked up around his forearms, trapping his wrists against his thighs.

Draco's arse was completely exposed, and his cock rubbed roughly against Harry's denims as he tried to push against the elastic waistband to break free. The first slap sounded against his skin, the sting only registering a second later.

Draco let out a sharp cry of surprise as his body arched against Harry's thighs. His cock again brushed Harry's denims, and Draco could already feel the wetness gathering around the tip.

"It's not right to steal, Draco."

The second smack was much harder than the first, and Draco moaned as a tingly warmth radiated across his arse and down his thighs. He squirmed against Harry's lap, silently begging for another, and he wasn't made to wait long. The third was just as hard as the second, and nearly as loud, and Draco let out another groan as his hips instinctively pushed into Harry's thigh, the pressure against his cock almost painful.

The fourth and fifth came in quick succession, and soon Draco could no longer keep count. The sharp sting of each slap melded into a warm buzz, and all he could focus on was the sound of Harry's palm as it connected with his arse, the throb of his cock as all the blood in his entire body prickled at the surface of his skin.

Draco was boneless, his body lax as he absorbed every blow, each one swallowed up by the warmth rushing through his veins, when Harry suddenly flipped him over. His eyes blinked open, head still swimming, as he was made to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked down as Harry slithered between his knees and his heartbeat stuttered back to life. He tried to move his hands, but they were still trapped in the tutu.

Harry looked up at Draco's mewl of protest, his pupils blown, and Draco sucked in a ragged breath before Harry ducked his head and swallowed Draco whole. Draco threw his head back, his mouth falling open as he cried out. His fingers at his sides itched for Harry's hair, but he didn't dare try to break free now.

Harry's hands worked their way under Draco's arse, and Draco's eyes flew open as jagged, bitten-down nails scraped roughly over his raw skin, the residual sting still pounding in time with Draco's pulse. A sound of pain gurgled in his throat but Harry only pressed harder before he dragged his lips up Draco's shaft and sucked hard on the head.

It was too much: the feel of Harry's wet mouth around his cock, the fresh heat pulsing through his body as Harry's nails dug into sensitive skin. Draco wanted to pull away, to push closer, to beg for more, to stop, and all the blood rushing away from his head was making him dizzy. Harry's nails again dragged against his arse, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked still harder around Draco's prick, and when one finger moved to press tight against Draco's hole, Draco came so hard he was sure he'd ripped the tutu in half.

When he opened his eyes a minute later, spent but somehow still on fire, Harry was staring up at him. His eyes were nearly black now, and the careful way his hands rested against Draco's knees told him Harry was ready to break any second. His breathing was loud even over Draco's gulps for air.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

Draco shook his head as he took another moment to catch his breath.

"Not even close."

~fin


End file.
